


I'm Gonna Find Another You

by babycakesbriauna



Category: Scandal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 12:39:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12321258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babycakesbriauna/pseuds/babycakesbriauna
Summary: Originally a Tumblr Prompt: Fitz leaves Olivia, finds a new woman and has no regrets. Somewhat canon divergence after 5x07.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not an Olitz story. An anon on Tumblr asked me a write Fitz moving on. I attempted to make this follow what's canon, but I do not watch the show.

_**It's really over, you made your stand** _

_**You got me crying, as was your plan** _

_**I'm Gonna Find Another You - John Mayer** _

 

**Part 1: It's Really Over**

"Is the love of two people worth all this destruction"

The words circled round and round in his head. He tried to work because it was always easier to lose himself in work - especially when the administration was making strides like never before - but this time he couldn't.

She lied again. She betrayed him again. She left him out of the circle again. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to believe Abby was lying to him. He wanted to believed this was another ploy by Mellie and Cyrus. He wanted to believe Rowan has orchestrated this entire thing, but he couldn't deny the nagging feeling telling him it was all false, but he couldn't.

With everything tormenting him, he knew what he had to do. He alerted his detail they would be taking a trip to Olivia's. She spent half her time at her condo and the remainder at the residence. She had finally redecorated; new furniture, thicker curtains, a fresh coat of paint. It felt like a home again, and Fitz was happy she'd have that.

"Wait it out here. We shouldn't be here too long," Fitz informed his detail, leaving them all a bit taken aback.

His feet felt as if they were bricks as he makes his way between the small space from her elevator to the front door. He hesitates briefly, not sure if he should knock or let himself in with the key she gave him. Before he makes a decision, she opens the door; face wary, hair a mess, eyes rimmed red.

She steps to the side to let him through the doorway. He comes to a stop, not daring to venture too far from the exit. He should stop, tired and heartsick because he loves this woman. He likes this woman. He's desperately in love with his woman. He knows all her expressions, and the guilt etched across her face rid him of any doubts he had about this visit; it answered all his questions before he even asked them.

"Please. Please tell me it isn't true. Please," he pleaded wanting to give her one more chance.

Her deafening silence confirmed it all.

He dropped his head, unwilling -unable - to make eye contact. "Oh Livvie, Livvie…" He chocked out.

"We were going to get married," she flared, her voice coming defensively. "It was all happening so suddenly, and I wasn't ready. But I couldn't let you lose your presidency. I couldn't let you sacrifice it all, but I couldn't marry you. Not in that way. "

"You had no…"

"What was supposed to do?" she yelled. "I couldn't sacrifice any more of myself, but you'd already lost some much because of me, and I couldn't let you lose ....wouldn't let me explore any other options that you were on board with. I don't want fairly tale. I want a life with you. I want a future with you.I love. I wanted your legacy to remain somewhat untarnished. I did this for us, for our future children, for you.

He shut his eyes tightly.

"I did this for you." How many times had he heard that phrase carelessly thrown around? How many times had people committed self, reckless, dangerous offensives in his name?

He opened his eyes again and lifted his head bak up. At first, his voice came as a whisper, but as each word of the consequences that resulted in her actions bombarded him, his volume rose.

"You did this you, Olivia, and you had no right! You know what you were supposed to do, use your words… communicate. You're an adult that's what we do. You express yourself. I would have understood. I would have listened to you. I ALWAYS listen to you, Liv. We could have found another way. We would have been a team, but instead, you ran away again. You shut me out again. You made a unilateral decision that broke my trust and faith in you again."

"You wanted something I couldn't give you. Something I wasn't ready to give you. You wanted me to be this quintessential First Lady and live out this picturesque life. You wanted me to give up my job, what made me, me and I could not do that!"

"I didn't ask that of you. I would never ask that of you. I wanted you. If I wanted that I would've stayed married to Mellie. I wouldn't have signed those papers. I would have thrown you under the bus. I just wanted you, but you didn't want me."

"I did! I still do," she cried."

"No, you don't. You would rather put this country at risk than to be with me. You didn't want to be a team, and you didn't want me. You released the man that killed my son all because you couldn't commit. All because you couldn't comprise for 18 months. The safety and security of others wasn't worth 18 months to you. Our relationship wasn't worth 18 months to you, "he yelled.

Her nostrils flared, and she placed her hands on her hips. "No, I didn't want a sham of marriage! One that would have been filled with power struggles and resentment. Where would that have left us, Fitz?Where would be?" She murmured in horror, because the thought of that lifestyle terrified her.

"No...NO, OLIVIA!" he screamed," Regardless of what would have in our marriage, it doesn't justify what you've done. What you've kept for me. It doesn't justify you taking away my choices and watching me run around like a chicken with its head cut off as I attempt to clean the mess you made."

No matter what would have become of their hypothetical marriage, Olivia should have given him a seat a the table. She should have communicated with him because now they'll never know what could have been.

"You say that wouldn't have been our life, but it's so easy to fall into this traditional roles when you're living in a fishbowl. I knew as much as I fought against it, eventually, I'd stop being Olivia Pope. I'd become Mrs. Grant. I'd be ornamental. You wouldn't have stopped it because it would have been so easy for you to keep living the life you were accustomed to."

Her words cut him like an attack; quick, sharp, painful.

"Is that what you think of me? Is that how little faith you've always had me in, in us? That I'm incapable of change? That I'm incapable of making the right decision, the right choices for my life? That I would force you to become something - someone - you loathe? All this time I thought we were a partnership. I thought we were equals, but it turns out you've been the one playing god with my life," he sneered at her.

"I wasn't playing god. I'm not Mellie. I'm not Cy. I'm not my father. I did it for our own good. I did it for us.I love you."

"Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night? You did this for us?" he shook his head in disgust. "You're right, you aren't Mellie or Cy or your father. You're much worse. I knew with them to always watch my back, to keep my guard up, that I was playing with fire. You,you're a different brand altogether. You let me love you and trust you and put faith in you. " He paused, letting the tears roll down his face. " You do things like this and think saying 'I love you' will erasure everything you've done."

"I can't…I can't, Liv…" he said tiredly. "I can't have this argument with you. I can't do this back and forth. You've left me more times than I can count. I forgave Defiance. I forgave Teddy. I forgave you running off time and time again, but I cannot forgive this. I'm all out of forgiveness, Olivia. "

She exhaled deeply, lip quivering afraid to ask. " Where does this leave us?"

"Nowhere. I can't trust you. There is not enough love in the world to make me overlook this. I would be a fool if I did so. There's nothing you can do or say or give me to make me wait. This isn't a stalemate. This is the end."

"You don't mean that, Fitz." She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "We've made it this far. You aren't going to throw this away, not when we're so close."

"I'm not throwing this life, Liv. You already did that for me. I'm simply closing the lid," he placed her hands in his one of his, cherishing the feeling of them. His other traced her tear stained cheek, memorising the softness of her skin. He tilted his head downwards, closing his eyes. The tip of his nose brushed against hers, once, twice, three times before their lips met. It was quick; it was painful, it was the end. As soon as their lips meet they parted. Staying any longer meant there was hope. Staying any longer meant they had a future. Staying any longer meant they were still in this together.

"I'll always love, Olivia," and then he was gone.


	2. Part 2: I'm Gonna Sing From Blue

_**You might have your reasons but you will never have my rhymes** _   
_**I'm gonna sing my way away from blue** _   
_**I'm gonna find another you** _

_**John Mayer : I'm Gonna Find Another You** _

**Part 2: I'm gonna sing from blue**

It had been three months since Olivia had found agents outside of her door, holding boxes with her belongs and trying to avoid making eye contact. At first, the tried calling him every day, then every other day, finally twice a week. Then she stopped completely. He didn't want to hear from her; he didn't want an explanation. Technically she could have set up a formal meeting since she as still a consultant to the Grant Administration, but her pride would not allow it.

That was until word of Jake's death made it her way. Her father had gotten to him, and now she was truly all alone. Huck freed himself of his demons by killing her father and was now off on the west coast attempting to create a new life. Abby had disassociated herself from she had Marcus and Quinn; they were not the people she would confide in. Instead, she found herself calling Fitz, much to her surprise he agreed to meet with her.

That is how found herself biting the inside of her lip and pacing. She missed him; the thought of sharing a private space with him again made her she needed to see him. She needed to let him know how truly sorry she was for all the things she had done.

"Hi," her voice comes just above a whisper as he enters the room, prompting her to halt her pacing.

"Hello, Olivia."

There's silence. He did not respond with their usual "hi." He did not make eye contact with her. He did not even walk in her direction; instead, he walked towards an end table and poured himself a glass of water.

"Are you going to say anything? You've been hounding my staff for months. Now that I've agreed to meet with you, you're suddenly mute," Fitz turns to her. His words cold, precise, calculated. They leave no room for misinterpretation of what this might be.

"Jake is dead."

"I know," he replies gulping his water. His drinking had improved drastically. He hadn't gone cold turkey, but he had not gone back to 5 or 6 drinks just to make it through a good day.

"My father kill him."

"Whose fault is that," he bites back.

She nodded her head accordingly. "I deserved that. I know I did."

"Why are you here Olivia? If it's to grieve about your ex/current lover, I don't want to hear it. Now that he's officially gone you think you can just run back to me as if nothing happened?"

"Fitz, no. That's not why I'm here at all," she denied. While Jake's death was the catalyst, she made those final steps, because she needed to know he was okay. She needed to know on some level they would be okay.

"Then why are you here?"

"Why did you agree to see me?" Olivia retorted unable to hold back the frustration of being interrogated.

"Because I love you," he snapped back with a cynical chuckle, "and I know you're hurting."

He paused, giving her time to process, giving himself time to decide his next words. She gasped loudly, eyes widening; not knowing what to say, not knowing how to feel.

"But mainly for me," at this point she's completely lost. He's finally holding her gaze, but there is no signal of hope conveyed, no prospect of a reunion, no possibility of reconciliation. "I need to clear the air. I need to move on. I have to move on, and seeing you is the only way it can happen. So here we are."

Once again the silence hung in the air. Olivia afraid to speak first because she did not want this time with him to end nor did want to this be over. She wanted to keep love again. She wanted to know there was still a chance.

"Jake dying reminded me of your shooting. It reminded me of how precious life is. I almost lost you once because of someone else. I almost lost you again, because I abandoned you during your time of need. I don't want to make that mistake again. I let my fears and doubts lead the way instead of going about things rationally. I cannot undo what I've done. I know there's blood on my hands," she pauses in an attempt to keep her voice from shaking.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I apologise for always disappointing you and letting you down when you need me the most and not showing you the unwavering and dedication you've shown me…"

"I hear nothing but in that well-rehearsed apology," Fitz tilted his head, already expecting the other shoe to drop.

She sighed deeply unsure if she should continue but knowing it was too late not to follow through.

"You once told me there was nothing I could do that you would not for, yet you won't forgive me for this. You won't give me another chance because I made one mistake under duress," her eyes welled with unshed tears she refused to let fall. She must feign confidence a bit longer if she had any chance of leaving this somewhat whole.

"You are right," he nodded making sure to capture her gaze. "I also once told you love allows for forgiveness. I meant what I said when I left your apartment. I do love you, and I do forgive you..."

"Thank you," she whispered, shutting her eyes tightly in relief. She wasn't aware of how much she needed to hear those words until the hot tears rolled down her cheeks one bone. Her heart was hammering against her chest because those words still meant something to him. He wasn't a liar. He wasn't giving up on her.

"I do forgive you, but that doesn't mean I'm going to continue to live this way," he continued, and her eyes snapped open. All at once the hammering she once felt stopped. It was replaced with a dull ache that radiated throughout her body. This was what she'd been fearing.

"I forgive you, and you've forgiven me, but the difference is I keep forgiving you in hopes that you will stop repeating the same type of actions. I forgive you, and you keep doing keep doing the same thing. It wasn't one mistake under duress, but multiple offenses that keep stacking up against you.," he sighed watching as she slowly recoiled into herself physically. He knew her too well, and that was the issue. He knew her so well he could no longer look past all the warning signs telling him to run, telling him to free himself.

"I know you, Olivia. I know you well enough to know you don't want this," he gestured between the two of them. " You don't want me available to you and only you. You don't want a life with me. For the longest time, I thought it was something I was doing or wasn't doing. That I was the issue, then I thought of Edison and realised it's you. You're the issue, Olivia. He was offering you everything he had. He might not have been perfect, and maybe you would have been settling, but I know you cared about him. I know he loved you and probably still does or he wouldn't have stuck his neck out for you.'

"It's okay if the mythological American Dream and family isn't what you want. It's okay that you don't want the house and the kids and the jam and the dog walks and parent-teacher conferences and quickies in the pantry while the chicken strips are in the oven. I respect that, and I've come to terms with that. I heard you loud and clear, and now I need you to listen to me."

"Fitz," she sighed because it was the first thing to come to mind. She felt lost, disjointed. Hearing the truth come from him - not her father, friends, or ex-lovers - it left her mortified and terrified. It wasn't just his words, but the pairing with his cold, unfamiliar eyes. Those weren't the eyes that usually greeted her with warmth and love even if it was buried under anger and frustration. These eyes were different, and that scared her.

"You have to let me go, Olivia. You and I don't want the same things in life. I accept that, but I can't accept you popping back into my life." She reached out to touch him only for him to jerk back. "I was fine, and  _you_  decided to walk back into my was no seeking you out and trying to convince you my marriage was over. I came home to find you on my balcony with your shoes off and a glass of wine as if you lived here. As if that's what you wanted in life. If you want to continue to be my "side piece," then leave me alone. Let me live my life in peace. I'm too old for this."

"I deserve that," the words tumbled out in a whisper, "but I do love you."

He closed his eyes, shaking his head once more. Enough was enough. Once again a pregnant pause filled the room. She waited and waited, but he said nothing; that's when she knew. Quietly she gathered her things and made her way over to the door. As her hand touched the handle, she stopped herself. This was the last night she'd be in this space, so she took it in, etching it - etching him - into her brain

"Fitz," she called out, the distance of her voice prompting him to open his eyes. He looked at her, truly looked at her. He couldn't understand how he ever ended up here. As he stared at her broken expression, there was nothing in her that he recognised. She was a complete stranger. "I was afraid. I was afraid of losing you...looks like I lost you anyway."

"It looks like I lost you too."

* * *

It was the year of unexpected phone calls. When Lauren had informed him a Winston Stanberry III had been in contact, Fitz immediately called this old acquaintance back. Winston had been one of the first black students to attend his boarding school. His maternal grandfather and his uncles and cousins attended Winston would be no different, especially not when one of the residence halls was named after their family.

This was a friendship that continued well into the college and led them to enlist into the NAVY together. His father had served his country be becoming a NAVY man, and Winston was going to do the same. That brotherhood between time lasted over the years. When young Jerry, Winston was one of the first sincere phone calls Fitz had received. He stayed a few days following the burial, sensing his presence was needed. Once again when the news finally broke that Fitz and the infamous Olivia Pope was over, Winston knew he'd making a trip to DC sooner than he expected.

That was how to two men found themselves at a steakhouse in Capitol Hill, perched in private room away from the other politicians and lobbyists. Fitz settled for the salmon while Winston chose the sirloin Fitz had recommended.

"You should really watch what you eat," Fitz grinned as they cut into their dishes.

"Stays he who recommended it," Winston retorted.

"It's a damn good steak," he shrugged, and Winston couldn't deny it. The steak was brilliant.

"So what's new with you," Winston asked with an impish grin. His brown eyes holding the constantly amused and ruggedly handsome look they often did.

Fitz raised a brow "What's new with me? I thought this was my escape."

"Is that what this is?"

"What else would it be?"

Those eyes, ones he'd seen mature from boyhood to manhood laughed back at him. All Fitz could offer in return was a chuckle. Unlike Jake, Fitz knew he could trust Winston, so he decided to play along.

"Let's see; my youngest is starting kindergarten this year. Half the party's 30 nominees want my backing, and the other half have are completely distancing themselves from me. I'm single for the first time in my adult life, and in roughly a year I'll be unemployed."

Winston listened intently "You seem to have made a lot of changes, for the best if you don't mind me saying."

"Is that the polite way of saying your life was a fucking mess, and you finally got your shit together?"

Winston couldn't help, but chuckle has how candid Fitz was. " More or less. You know what I felt about Mellie."

"Well, we can't all be you and Nicole," both men hummed before returning to their meals. Fitz knew Winston was studying him, determining which question would be most appropriate to follow.

"It's too bad I didn't get to meet Olivia in a more informal setting," he stated casually.

Fitz raised his barely visible brow yet again, "You've meet Olivia?"

Winston chuckled humourlessly. "A couple of times over the years. You know Edison, and I are well acquainted, I remember when the two of them first got engaged. Then at a few events for black Ivy graduates. Of course, I met her at your first inauguration luncheon."

Fitz gave a slight nod, leaning back in his chair.

"The two of you made a handsome couple. Nicole doesn't think too highly of her outside of business, but I thought the two of you would have been a power couple," he shared, knowing his comment in reference to his wife wouldn't go unnoticed.

"That makes two of us, but it is what it is. We danced around being together for damn ten years. Sometimes you just have to say it's now or never. We chose never. I don't regret it. I know I gave it everything I had. I've picked up the pieces, and maybe one day I'll find another woman."

Winston studied him once again, then leaned forward to pop another piece of steak in his mouth. "Well, Nicole thinks you can do better. According to her that woman is a "thotty chickenhead and wants to remain a side piece."

Now I'm not saying I agree with that entire statement, but you do deserve better if half the rumours are true."

Fitz stares as him wide-eyed. "Where is Nicole getting all is information from?"

"Circles are small...information flows freely if you know the right people. You know how my wife is. She can wade through the BS, and tells it how it is when something ain't clean in the milk. The stories about Olivia all have the same reoccurring theme. She respects Olivia professionally, but on a personal level she wouldn't trust her as far as she can throw her."

Fitz had no clue what was being said about Olivia in these circles, and at this point in his life, he didn't give a damn to even ask. Winston's words made him chuckling as he imagined the phrase "thotty chickenhead" leaving her mouth. As someone who had three ivy degrees from various institutions, was VP of multi-million dollar corporation, but she was still the girl from Brooklyn that Winston brought back home from Thanksgiving. Still, the girl that dragged her slightly bougie husband to the Labor Day Parade every year, as he prayed this year wouldn't be the year he got shot. Still, the girl that wasn't afraid to call Mellie out on being a closeted racist when the Stanberrys only asked Fitz to be in their wedding party.

"A thotty chickenhead, that's a new one," Fitz gave a hearty laugh.

"Is that an accurate assessment?"

"It isn't my place to say."

"Fair enough. Well, let's let the past stay in the past."

"That is something I can agree with," he cheered, bringing his wine glass to his lips.

"Have you thought about casually dating? Just dipping your foot back into the water?"

"I have, but I'm obviously as where to start," Fitz expressed honestly.

"You do know Nicole is only a phone call away. Just say the word, and she'll get on," Winston ensured.

"Thank you; I'll keep that in mind."

"And you know that you always have an open invitation to visit. The kids miss their Uncle  _Fitzy_ ," he teased. " And that you'll always be my brother from another mother."

"The feeling is mutual," Fitz gave a genuine smile. Being with an old friend, thinking about the future - his future he was happy. Truly happy for the first time in a really long time. " Speaking of mothers, how is your mom?"

"Waiting to kick your ass," he grinned. As the two continued their meal, it reminded the of older times. When it was all over, it left Fitz feeling surer about the decision he'd made the path he was taking.

* * *

With the steam rolling on getting a few more bills passed before he left office, Fitz was feeling on top of his game. He took Winston's advice and gave Nicole a ring. Not to his surprise, women were eager to be tied to him for several reasons, so they made sure these women were vetted and understood things would be casual. He found himself enjoying the companionship but sometimes he needed to be alone.

That's how he found himself at a fundraiser without a date. As usual, he floated throughout the room gaining everyone's attention. He stood in the middle of a large ballroom with countless people listening intently to his every word. It's an art he's mastered over the years. If anything his improved as his self-assurance grew post break-up.

Uncharacteristically, he stopped talking mid-sentence. He straightened out his legs and stood stiffer as if he were back in the NAVY. His eyes scanned the area again before he quietly excused himself from the group. He strides across to the room where he sees the one of an online magazine that has that sweep through and dominated pop culture recently. He only knew this, because Karen was determined to be a magazine editor was her calling and she'd interned at their DC office.

"President Grant," Emilio Santiago called out, raising his hand and waving as if he knew the president was coming to him.

"He's coming over," Emilio exclaimed excitedly to his friend Ava, doing up his tuxedo jacket. " Let me introduce you."

Ava nodded, picking up her way glass, making sure manicured nails didn't touch the glass.

"President Grant, it's wonderful to see you again."

"Mr. Santiago, likewise," Fitz replied in polished form yet his gaze staying on Ava.

"How is Karen doing? I'm looking forward to having her in our New York office during the summer."

"Karen is wonderful. She was finishing up a Spanish project when I spoke to her on my way here. "

"Those skills will definitely aid her over the summer," Emilio guaranteed.

"There's no doubt in my mind that will. I'm very proud of her," he smiled widely.

"May I introduce you to my date this evening?" Emilio switched topics remembering his manners.

Emilio made introductions, making sure to mention Ava was not only an award-winning anesthesiologist, but owned one of the most successful and fastest growing medical consulting firms in the country. Fitz's features displayed a keen interest, one that did not go unnoticed by Ava. While his face remained trained and polish, he eyes told her a different story. He was intrigued and interested.

Ava held her hand out to him " President Grant."

There is no hesitation on his part. When their hands touch, there's a maddening tingle for the both of them. Despite his best efforts, Fitz gives her a once over. Her dark hair is a waterfall of waves. Her eggplant dress lifts her breasts nicely, hugging her thighs firmly, and leaving an inviting split in the front to showcase her tone legs she's maintained her years of dance and gymnastics.

"Fitzgerald will suffice, Dr. Ava Canario-Cameron,' he insisted as he stretched her name out.

"Well if you insist there's no need for formalities, please call me Ava."

"So Ava," he continued, curling his mouth into one of his signature smiles, "how do you find the fundraiser?"

"I find it to be brilliant. I spend my days in suits or scrubs, so it's nice to be wearing a gown," she answered skillfully, testing the waters. Her eyes darted to Emilio, signaling for him to fall back. If the president wanted to be this bold with her, she was going to see what came out it. Despite his political beliefs he was an interesting character to her and seemed to be a decent person.

"I'm certain whether you're in the operating room or boardroom, your work is much more exciting than trying to get overgrown children to agree. If I you find my saying so to your dissatisfaction, you look exquisite in this gown."

"It is a most welcomed compliment," she tipped her wined glass before taking a sip.

"So tell me more about you, Ava?"

"More in about me?"

"Yes. Nothing too heavy, just what I might find on your Wikipedia if I Googled you," he clarified, gaining a light laugh from her.

"My wiki," she grinned, " Well I was born to an American American mother of Scottish descent - you know people look to quantify their white genes - and a Puerto Rican father. I attended Brown for undergrad and med school. I completed my residency in Boston at Mass Gen. In addition I have an MBA in marketing, MA in organizational communication, and a Masters in Gaelic. I too am a Rhodes Scholar," she winked at him acknowledging their shared academic connection.

"This is much more impressive than anything I've done," Fitz stated in awe.

"I wouldn't sell you short; you have JD, Ph.D., and decorated military career."

Fitz thought of a witty response, but his chief of staff notified him that some donors would like his attention. Being pulled out of his bubble he noticed that the room is buzzing, the type of buzz you only get when politics are involved.

"I would like to finish this conversation before the evening is over, Ava," he said in a lowered tone. Her eyes meet his, and she sees the sincerity in his words.

"I look forward to it, Fitzgerald."

When Ava returned to Emilio, she saw he eagerness in his eyes for answers, but knew he wouldn't ask until they'd left the venue. A few other businessmen and women approach the pair, discussing the latest acquisitions that have been made by their respective businesses. Emilio's being the most recent, having acquired a prestigious news magazine in London. It had been around for nearly a century, but in the last decade or so their profits plummeted, allowing him to swoop in and buy it as a record low amount.

Between dinner, dessert, and speeches the night continued on the same. Ava rubbed the appropriate elbows and kissed the suitable cheeks. As she navigated the room, she felt eyes on her throughout the night. If she scanned the room at the night time, she'd lock eyes with Fitzgerald Grant III. She didn't know what it was about this president with a rather messy personal life, but there was something about him that called to her.

As the event winded down the space began to clear, Emilio chattered on about his plans to fly out to the west coast to visit family. The two standing side by side with his arm around her waist. He was telling her about his niece when he stops mid-sentence causing Ava to turn her attention to his gaze.

"Forgive me," Fitz spoke," I did not mean to interrupt. Unfortunately, I have to return home."

"Duty calls." Ava simply said.

"Duty calls," he nodded." Ava, I would honoured to see you in again. May I have your number?"

A smile spread across Ava's face. Under that presidential persona, there was something boyish that left her chuckling inside. She had the president nervous on the inside, and that was endearing. She reached into her clutch, removing a business card and fine point pen. Carefully she wrote nine digits on the back of the card.

"This is the best number to reach me at for nonprofessional matters if you'd like a quick response," Ava looked up, handing him the card.

"Thank you," he smiled as he placed the card in his breast pocket.

"Mr. Santiago, " Fitz extended his hand "it was nice seeing you again."

"You too, Mr. President."

"I look forward seeing you in the near future, Ava," he said with a certainty that let her know he would be calling. He took a hand and placed a gentle kiss on it.

"As do I, Fitzgerald. As do I."


End file.
